


boats and birds

by saintjoy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, And Iwaizumi helps him with his problem, Depression, Established Relationship, M/M, Oikawa fucks up his knee beyond repair, Post-High School, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 06:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4253040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintjoy/pseuds/saintjoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What are we doing?" Oikawa whispered.<br/>"Therapy," Iwaizumi responded simply.</p>
            </blockquote>





	boats and birds

“You know, my life has completely fallen apart.”

“... And this just occurred to you?”

 

Oikawa contemplated his drink. Such a familiar color, whiskey was – whether it was fruity or nutty or sour or bitter, it always retained that pretty amber color. The color of autumn leaves. The color of his own eyes in the sunlight. And the color of the inevitable vomit in the toilet sometime past midnight. He took another sip and lolled back his head to look at the ceiling.

 

“Every time my knee aches, it does.” He kicked up his bad leg on the table and wiggled his foot. “Booze makes it better though. Sooooo much better. I don’t feel a _thing_ when I’ve got a little booze in me.”

“I wouldn’t call this ‘a little.’” Iwaizumi raised the half-empty bottle on the floor and waved it over Oikawa’s head. “And I’d never call _this_ ,” he gestured up and down Oikawa’s body, “‘better.’”

“Do you only hang out with me anymore just to make me feel bad about my terrible habits?” Oikawa flicked the bottle and exhaled. “If that’s the case, you’re going to be disappointed. I _don’t_ feel bad. I feel _great._ ”

“I don’t hang out with you to make you feel bad, jackass. You make yourself feel bad.”

“Only because I know you hate it when I drink.” Oikawa swung himself forward and finished off his glass. “And you being here just reminds me of how unpleasant you find my company when I’m intoxicated.”

Iwaizumi set the bottle back down on the floor. “You do nothing but angst when you’re drunk. All this ‘woe-is-me’ shit. Nothing like the Tooru I used to know.”

“So then _leave,_ ” Oikawa snapped. “Not like I need you here, anyway.”

 

Iwaizumi remained silent. A frown pulled at the ends of Oikawa’s lips hard enough for his eyes to grow watery. His nostrils flared and his bottom lip quivered. “ _Fuck._ That wasn’t right. I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, you are,” Iwaizumi muttered.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Oikawa slammed down his glass – it shattered – and covered his eyes with his hands. “ _Fuck,_ what am I _doing?_ Why am I doing this to myself?” His chest heaved as tears spilled down his cheeks. “I’m awful. I’m _awful._ I’m _useless_ and a _shitty_ person.”

Iwaizumi rubbed Oikawa’s back and squeezed the nape of his neck. “Still waiting on that apology.”

“Why do you _bother_ with me?” Oikawa asked. He tensed up underneath Iwaizumi’s touch and shivered. “I’m so shitty. All I do is bitch and complain about how my life sucks. You have no reason to be around me. I suck.”

“You do, sometimes,” Iwaizumi agreed. “Only when you drink.”

“I suck _other_ times. Almost _all_ the other times. And yet, here you still are.” Oikawa coughed and bile rose in the back of his throat. He pressed his head into Iwaizumi’s shoulder and he smelled like oranges. Oranges and vanilla extract. Oikawa had the scent memorized by now. “You’re not a martyr for willingly hanging out with a drunk ex-volleyball star.”

“I don’t want to be a martyr. That shit is for people who blame the world for problems they brought on themselves.”

“Is that meant to be an attack against me, for fucking up my knee so bad?”

“Yes, everything I say is an attack against you. Don’t you know that by now?” Iwaizumi pulled Oikawa into a hug and kissed his forehead. “I like you better when you’re arrogant.”

“It’s all just a _lie._ You like a _facade_ more than you like _me._ ”

“The only facade here is the shitty sob story you keep telling yourself as an excuse for spending all your time at home drinking the daylights out of yourself.”

 

This scenario was so familiar that Oikawa felt like he was reading from a script. He’d complain about his life, Iwaizumi would offer valid advice through a critical lens for the sake of his well being, and he’d complain about how he couldn’t do that because he was too busy complaining about his life. _God_ , and he _wondered_ why he didn’t have any friends anymore.

 

“I’m pathetic,” Oikawa mumbled with a stifled whimper. “How did I get to this point?”  
Iwaizumi paused, and his soothing hand froze over Oikawa’s back. “I think a more important question is…,” he began, treading carefully, “how do you get away from this point?”

“The _most_ important question is how the hell should _I_ know.”

“Well.” Iwaizumi pulled away and Oikawa clung onto his shirt by the sleeve. It was too cold without him. “I got an idea of where to start.”

“Oh?”

 

Iwaizumi picked up the bottle on the floor and screwed on the cap. He grabbed Oikawa’s arm and yanked him to his feet. “Show me where you keep all your booze.”

“Hajime…?”

“I don’t care how much you have, I just want to get it.”

Oikawa wobbled where he stood and wondered if he could get out of this by vomiting on Iwaizumi’s shoes. To his misfortune, though, Iwaizumi probably wouldn’t even give a shit at this point. “Cabinet next to the refrigerator.”

“Okay.”

 

Oikawa wanted to sit back down on the couch, but Iwaizumi dragged him into the kitchen and made him hold onto the half-empty bottle of whiskey while he dug out all the other booze in his cabinet. Beer and hard lemonade and more whiskey and rum and even the crappy artificial fruity flavorings: Iwaizumi stacked all of it on the kitchen table and counters and made no comment on the volume.

 

“Where else?”

“Nowhere else. That’s all of it.”

Iwaizumi glared at him. Oikawa held onto the bottle in his arms like it was his newborn child.

“... Under the bed.”

 

Iwaizumi dragged Oikawa to the bedroom and pulled out another case of beer or three. “What about your shot glasses and shit?”  
“Back in the kitchen, next to the stove.”

 

By the time Iwaizumi unearthed all of Oikawa’s booze and booze paraphernalia, every surface in the kitchen was filled. Oikawa fidgeted with the dimples on the bottle in his hands.

“I have a problem,” he said, eyes focused on the floor.

“We’re gonna get rid of it, though,” Iwaizumi replied. He took out his car keys from his back pocket and jingled them in front of Oikawa’s face. “Help me pack this into the trunk.”

 

###

 

Oikawa buried himself in Iwaizumi’s sweater – he forgot to grab a jacket, and Iwaizumi said he wasn’t cold – as they pulled out of the parking lot outside his apartment building. He prayed to whatever god that would listen that Iwaizumi wouldn’t accidentally run a stop sign. Getting pulled over by a cop with a trunk full of beer, a backseat full of liquor and a passenger seat full of intoxicated underage boy would be the worst possible ending to their already awful night.

 

They didn’t talk much the entire way, but Oikawa did manage to ask if he could roll down the window. Iwaizumi wondered aloud why he would want the window open if he was cold, but whatever he didn’t really care. The cool breeze helped Oikawa think straight. It cleared the alcohol from his mind. He had no clue where they were going at the start, but when he could smell the ocean Iwaizumi’s intentions grew more and more clear.

 

“What are we doing?” Oikawa whispered.

“Therapy,” Iwaizumi responded simply.

 

He parked in the corner of the lot near the beach and turned off the engine. Oikawa was about to ask for clarification before Iwaizumi leaned over the emergency brake and kissed him. One hand threaded through his hair and the other slid under his sweater and held onto his back. Oikawa caught Iwaizumi’s shirt between his fingers and pulled him closer. Their lips fit against each other like long-lost puzzle pieces, tender and warm but still stained by the taste of alcohol. Oikawa didn’t like the taste. He didn’t want it in his mouth anymore. The more he kissed Iwaizumi, the more it faded away.

 

Iwaizumi pressed his tongue into Oikawa’s mouth and moaned in the back of his throat. A heated blush rose to Oikawa’s cheeks that he knew was not just the alcohol getting to him, and part of him wanted to pull Iwaizumi into his lap just to get him closer. As soon as he tried, though, Iwaizumi separated from him, panting and wiping saliva from his mouth.

 

“Is your idea of therapy making out on the beach under the stars? Because I’d be happy with that,” Oikawa said.

“In a way. It could end up like that.” Iwaizumi shoved his keys into his pocket and opened the car door. “Help me unload everything.”

 

To Oikawa’s dismay, they didn’t make their way to the beach. To his greater dismay, they instead climbed a sloping cliff that overlooked the ocean, carrying the heavy bags of booze and glasses in each hand. Well, to be fair, Iwaizumi just had Oikawa carry one bag while he handled the rest, but it still made his knee crack more than what was comfortable.

 

Upon reaching the summit, he collapsed among the grass and rock and rolled onto his back to face the sky. Wind bristled through his hair and he could feel the bugs flitting about across his face. There weren’t any clouds for miles that would keep Oikawa from counting the stars above his head. He heard Iwaizumi shifting the glass bottles and aluminum cans around in the bags and sat up.

 

“What are we doing?” he asked again.

“Like I told you, therapy.”

 

Iwaizumi held a hand out to Oikawa and pulled him to his feet once more. He plucked a case of beer from the shopping bag closest to them and handed it to him.

 

“Hajime, I don’t want to drink anymore.”

“I know you don’t.” Iwaizumi grabbed a case for himself and cracked open the first can. “Let’s make sure that happens.” He kissed the back of Oikawa’s hand before walking to the edge of the cliff, and turning the beer upside down. Oikawa watched as the contents fell out of sight, dissolving into the black ocean stories below their feet. Iwaizumi shook out the last of it and tossed the empty can back into the bag.

 

“Your turn.”

 

Oikawa stared at the case of beer in his hands.

 

He set it down, grabbed a can, and popped it open. At home, he’d raise the rim to his lips and down it within a minute. But at the top of the world, with Iwaizumi’s gaze fixed on him, he couldn’t imagine doing anything else but flinging the contents as far away from him as possible. It fizzed in the air and some of it splashed back against Oikawa’s clothes, but he didn’t care; he wanted it gone. Gone fast enough that he wouldn’t think to take even a sip. Once the can was empty, he threw it to the ground and crushed it under his foot.

 

When he looked up, Iwaizumi was grinning and applauding his performance. “That’s what I’m talking about.” Iwaizumi grabbed another can and dumped it out. Oikawa took two at a time, popped them open, and shook them out; he took another two, popped them open, and shook them out; two more; two more; two more until his arms ached and he was out of breath. And they still had three more bags to empty.

 

“Fuck,” Oikawa panted, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “This is a lot.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi said, leaning on his knees and shaking his head back and forth. “We gotta keep going, though. Get rid of all of it.”

Oikawa stumbled over to the remaining bags and took out a case of hard lemonade. He squinted at the metal caps and asked, “Did we bring an opener?”

A pause. “Oh, dammit.”

“That’s okay.” Oikawa raised the bottles over his head. “I’ll just smash them.”

Iwaizumi opened his mouth like he was going to argue – probably with something like, “We can’t just leave glass all over the place or dump it in the ocean like that.” But then he waved his arm and said, “Go for it.”

 

Oikawa launched the bottles across the cliff and they shattered at the far edge with a satisfying burst. A smile curled onto his lips. He took up the entire shopping bag and yanked out another bottle of he didn’t care what, and threw that, as well. It landed just short of the edge and ricocheted into the water. He chuckled. Three more, hurled one after the other, exploded against the rock. Oikawa erupted in peals of laughter as a strong breeze ripped through his hair and gusted underneath his shirt.

 

“Careful that the glass doesn’t fly back at you, dumbass,” Iwaizumi called, but when Oikawa looked at him he found that he was about to do the exact same thing with a bottle of whiskey. Iwaizumi grunted as he raised the bottle over his head and smashed it at his feet. “Shit, that feels good.”

“Right!?” Oikawa looked forward to peering into the bag on his other arm for more bottles to break. As he chucked another one, he laughed again, “It’s _exhilarating!_ ”

“Good!” Iwaizumi shouted. “Keep going!”

 

The time flew by. The sounds of their yelping and laughter climbed over the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Soon Oikawa was crouching by the edge and breaking shot glass after martini glass after wine glass against the face of the cliff. Glittering pieces disappeared in the foaming water and to _hell_ with the _world_ if that made him some anti-environment asshole. He was still a little tipsy, anyway; what did he care? This was his therapy. This was his rebirth. This was his _happiness._

 

Oikawa went back to the bags once last time, only to find them empty. Iwaizumi stood before him, holding the half-empty whiskey bottle he’d been nursing just an hour ago.

 

“Wanna do the honors?” Iwaizumi asked.

Oikawa caught Iwaizumi by the wrist and replied, “Do it with me.”

A grin that could outshine the sun. “Of course.”

 

They faced the edge of the cliff together, and held the bottle over their heads.

 

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three!”

 

And just like that, Oikawa was free.

 

Iwaizumi’s breathing was loud in his ears. Oikawa leaned his head against Iwaizumi’s shoulder and swayed back and forth.

 

“All gone,” Iwaizumi whispered. “All gone.”

“All gone,” Oikawa repeated, moments before an overwhelming sickness made his stomach churn. He bolted from Iwaizumi’s arms with a strangled grunt, and kneeled at the edge of the cliff just in time to vomit into the ocean. His eyes burned at the awfully familiar sensation and shards of glass pricked the palms of his hands. Iwaizumi rubbed his back until he stopped heaving.

 

“Okay, it wasn’t all gone before,” Iwaizumi chuckled. “ _Now_ it is.”

Oikawa wiped his eyes and coughed. “I never wanna have to do that again.”

“Good. Because you won’t.” Iwaizumi kissed the side of his jaw. “I’ll make sure of that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SASO 2015, br 3.
> 
> Prompt by [oikawas](http://oikawas.dreamwidth.org):
> 
>  
> 
> [without you - lana del rey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7FG3uWvFjJs)  
> [boats and birds - gregory and the hawk](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aRPyoPGO2vo)  
> [lucky ones - lana del rey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fy9bjtsLYvA)


End file.
